gyuyeol ( past!wooyeol + extra )
get drunk in this mysterious, strange feeling.
could be mildly rated?

title taken from infinite's air.

salty feelings everywhere.

So yeah, Sungyeol’s at the club again.

It’s not his fault that his mind chose such a coping mechanism. If there is anyone who’s there to blame, it’s Nam Woohyun. Nam Woohyun and his eyes shrinking under the blossoming smile, canines dipping gently into the flesh oh so plush of the lower lip. Nam Woohyun and his tender ( albeit sickeningly sweet at times, causing the younger male a nausea ) words, the hand that knew right places to touch, rough yet gentle fingers contradicting with the smooth canvas of Sungyeol’s skin. And when he thinks that he can feel them again, those hands placing themselves upon his body, he leaves the bar, previously consumed alcohol riding up his throat, ready to empty the starving stomach and fill him with the bitterness instead ( Woohyun’s name, he thinks, is of acrimony greater on his tongue ).

The club’s bathroom is obscure, reeks of piss and used condoms in the trashcans but Sungyeol bends nonetheless, lethal liquid and whatever was in his stomach to begin with ( nothing ) eloping past his parted lips, leaving him with the vitreous eyes from which a single tear threatens to escape.

( Except that it doesn’t, Sungyeol can’t allow it. He rubs his eyes harshly and takes a deep, shaky breath that pierces his lungs. )

He doesn’t expect a handsome, slightly shorter male to be there when he walks out of the stall. The man certainly wasn’t there when he first arrived ( Has he heard the obscene sounds Sungyeol made? Has he heard the choked out sob that he couldn’t suppress? ) and Sungyeol doesn’t know why but he fixes his clothes, approaches the washbasin whilst letting the corner of his eye cunningly roam the body next to his own.

( And it’s quite a sight, the sharp line of small eyes subtly accentuated with a hint of eyeliner, mere stubble peeking from underneath the velvet-looking skin bathed in the purple light, defined jawline and the leather jacket Sungyeol can’t even wish to afford. )

( He cleanses the bitterness of his mouth with water and something that is awoken with the power the other person holds. )

The man next to him is so mesmerising, alluring in the way Sungyeol is unable to describe ( it’s an ineffable, ephemeral attraction of intoxication so deep it injects more adrenaline into his blood than the alcohol ) that he has to, he just has to, pretend to accidentally brush their elbows together to check whether the male is real.

( And oh, he is. Even through the fabrics that collide, he can feel a particular spark rushing up his arm, little feet of excitement running down his spine so hurriedly. )

It takes a simple encounter of gazes, a missed beat of a heart, lights changing the colour to red that splashes them, Sungyeol’s glistening plump lips, the bass’ pounding that reaches the bathroom in the faint thuds. Before his brain registers it, his back is pressed to the tiled wall painted in profanities,  drunken signatures and his lithe fingers grip the brown strands while his lips attempt to match the pace set by the shorter male.

( Sungyeol tastes alcohol and something sugary that doesn’t seem to match the man. )

His breath is caught, his lungs burn and the pleasure proliferates itself across his body – the warmth- no, the scorching heat, the tongue that is oh so skilful, the dominance the other appears to exude.

( Sungyeol thinks it’s better that he doesn’t know his name, it would be embarrassing. )

They only part when the lack of oxygen becomes too much and Sungyeol inhales sharply, shaken orbs staring into the depth of smaller ones that carry the mystery unknown, so tantalising he wants to unravel it on the spot, immediately, as fast as possible. Gentle breathing fans his abused lips and when he parts them ( though he doesn’t know what to say, he’s speechless, reduced to the enchantment that has been casted upon him ), a slender finger shushes him, accompanied by the knowing curve of the lips akin to the most smug grin of them all. The heart is taken by the vehement tide and beats erratically, Sungyeol watches the man leave and although he stumbles out of the bathroom seconds later, he’s nowhere to be found.

Lights alter the spectrum of colours, matching Sungyeol’s perplexity and he’s utterly, awfully lost. Determined eyes can’t come across the stranger, feelings that were elicited flop and he swallows down the pride. He needs alcohol.

So yeah, Sungyeol’s at the bar again.

Sat by the counter, tips of his fingers playing with the rim of the glass, prompting the soft sound that dies in the overwhelming club musical pieces. And while he lazily observes the plethora of faces, one couple situated in the corner of the club sparks his interest.

Nuzzling the long neck of the man barely taller, whose dimples seem adorable with the matching dulcet smile, with the same elegant fingers weaved in the raven hair, stands the stranger he met at the bathroom. The young male’s body is so pliant under his touch, he seems almost innocent, pure, compared to the sharp eyes of the charm so devilish.

( The boy seems so sweet and Sungyeol gags, hand covering his lips. He knew the taste didn’t match. )

Acrimony returns to him in the overpowering wave, Sungyeol finishes his shot and his head spins, heart sinks and body feels disgusting.

( When his phone vibrates in his pocket and it’s Woohyun calling, he rejects the call. )

Sungyeol orders another shot, unaware of the pair of eyes watching him silently from the corner.